


fears, tell me fears (don't get me started)

by tetsaturn



Series: oh klahoma [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Relationship Study, basically kenma gets very sad and kuroo rushes to comfort him, im so sorry, lots of heavy sentences bec im depressed nice to meet you, protect kenma at all costs, this is self indulgence at its best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26823427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsaturn/pseuds/tetsaturn
Summary: Kenma gets overwhelmed at practice, and Kuroo always worries about him.or: some self-indulgent drabble about Kuroken hurting but finding each other through it.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: oh klahoma [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961098
Comments: 3
Kudos: 154





	fears, tell me fears (don't get me started)

Kenma doesn't know how he ended up like this. Or, actually, he kind of knows, but he doesn't exactly remember.

Everything happened in a whim - one event hurrying after the other, emotions overlapping and senses overwhelming. So fast, so sudden that trying to remember what led to _this_ hurt his brain and made him shiver from embarrassment.

He was having an okay kind of day, initially. He woke up feeling energised, that Tuesday morning - which was unusual and quite surprising; he attended classes, and went on his usual routine without feeling heavy, without dragging his feet across his school's corridors. He actually laughed at some joke Lev sprung out on him as soon as he arrived at the gym for volleyball practice, and he could feel his eyes glimmering in delight when a grumpy Yaku dragged the much taller player by the back of his shirt and mumbled an annoyed, "Stop being a dumbass and come practice. We aren't finished, stupid."

Kuroo had smiled at him from across the court, because he noticed. Kenma thought that maybe he had a brightness today that was difficult to ignore - as if Kuroo would ever ignore anything Kenma did, Kuroo, that could see right through him - and that made him happy. Proud. It made him stand taller, with unusual confidence. It made him look forward to the rest of the day. It made him think that maybe, today would be better than most days.

But that wasn't the case.

Volleyball practice went okay. No, it went good, because Kenma's limbs didn't feel heavy and movements didn't feel difficult and concentration didn't feel forced; but. But just as he was crouching down to catch the volleyball, because they were practicing defense, the coach yelled something at him from across the gym.

"Kenma!" he heard clearly, "Your form is off!"

Kenma blinked. His form didn't feel off.

"I'll try again," he said, loudly enough for the coach to hear him.

Kenma did try again. Why was it off? Did he do everything wrong up until now? Why couldn't he get _anything_ right-

"Same as before!" the coach yelled. "You were doing it right yesterday! What happened?"

"Sorry, coach."

He could feel everybody's eyes piercing through the back of his head, and the one fragment of that unusual, long-desired confidence shattered. He refused to look around, because his form was off and everybody was looking at him and _coach I don't know what happened I just want to be good at what I do but it's never enough and-_

Kenma looked up, blinking rapidly. He could feel tears wetting his eyes, and _Oh, no_ , he thought. Another volleyball was thrown at him, but he forgot to crouch down and catch it. It bounced right by him, the sounds weaker and weaker as it came to a stop.

He was _sure_ everybody was looking at him. He refused to look around and check, but he was oh so sure of it. How stupid, standing in the middle of the court, trying to fight off tears just because the coach told him that his form was off; coaches are supposed to do that, Kenma, how stupid, what a crybaby, everybody's looking at you, Kenma, probably pitying you, how _stupid_ -

Ah, there you go.

Senses overwhelming. Tears threatening to spill out. Cheeks on fire, fingers trembling, searching for something to grasp onto, something to ground him, something to steady his hammering heartbeat.

How familiar.

"Excuse me," he croaked out at last, because he couldn't take it anymore and he didn't want to burst into tears right there, where everybody could see and judge and wonder, "I-I have to go to the bathroom."

He mentally congratulated himself for actually speaking without his tears spilling out and making a fool out of himself, as he rushed towards the bathroom door. He heard voices, volleyballs hitting the floor, sports shoes squeaking, and when he opened and closed the door behind him they sounded muffled.

Finally.

Kenma took a deep breath. Once, twice.

Practice went on, while he was hiding in the bathroom because he couldn't bear the coach yelling at him. How pathetic, how weak, how stupid.

He shuddered. Then, Kenma finally let himself cry.

─

So yes, maybe he does remember how he ended up like this. Hidden in one of the bathroom stalls, seated down, with his arms holding his knees close and sobs shaking his small body. He does, if he tries hard enough to remember. 

_But_ , the thing is, Kenma knows it by routine: if he tries to remember what led to one of these - maybe he should call them panic attacks, but that feels heavy on his mind and tongue, way too serious, and he doesn't know if he wants these _things_ to hold that much of an importance over him - he gets all squirmy and shivery and he only sobs harder. Louder.

Kenma knows that very well, because he's used to it. So, he just tries to block out everything - his emotions, his senses, his whimpers, the reason he's like this in the first place - and concentrates on his breathing.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Is he taking too long? Will people notice?

Breathe in, breathe out.

How long is too long before people will notice?

Breathe in, breathe out.

Does he want people to notice at all?

─

Kuroo is getting anxious. Or, really, he already got anxious. Because Kenma is in the bathroom, has been in the bathroom for five minutes now, and maybe other people wouldn't have noticed, but Kuroo did. He always does. Because other people don't know Kenma, or at least they don't know him like Kuroo does.

They're still practicing defense. And Kuroo knows he should be more concentrated, as he keeps missing the ball, but he can't help it when the back of his mind is filled by one thought and this thought only. He keeps replaying the scene of Kenma - his Kenma, his best friend, his person - standing there, confidence shattered; gorgeous, golden eyes before filled with an endearing gleam, now blinking out tears.

Kuroo frowns.

What if Kenma's crying right now? Sobbing, feeling miserable, blaming himself for it? What if he needs someone right now? What if he actually doesn't, and will hate Kuroo for perhaps following him into the bathroom?

He knows he should let him be, because when Kenma gets like this he doesn't like company. He knows that, but.

But he can't help his fidgeting. He can't help his sporadic stares to the bathroom door. He can't help his concern.

Maybe Kenma doesn't need him, but he despises the thought that if he _does_ need him, Kuroo won't be there.

So, he just thinks: _fuck it_.

"I'm going to the bathroom too," he announces. The coach regards him with a knowing and concerned look, as if to say, _I'm sorry. Do what you need to do_. "Excuse me" he says at last, and hurries towards the bathroom.

He enters, trying to do so as quietly as possible, but loud enough to make Kenma know he's there, because he wouldn't want to surprise him when he knows he's at his most vulnerable self. He hears quiet sobs coming from one of the stalls suddenly stopping for fear of being heard, and Kuroo's heart drops.

"Hey, you," he greets quietly, forcing his voice to stay stable, even if his heart's breaking all the while, "It's me. You don't have to, um, talk to me. Just letting you know I'm here if you need me," he sighs, wondering if he's made a mistake, "and if you don't, I-I can go."

There's silence, but Kuroo didn't expect any less. He's aching to see Kenma - because the muffled hiccups are making him fidgety and anxious - but he understands his desire to be hidden. He understands the shame, the embarrassment, the fear. He understands _him_.

One minute goes by like this, maybe two. Kuroo leans on the wall, trying to be as quiet as possible but not so much that Kenma forgets that he's there. _I'm here_ , he wants to say. _I'll respect your silence, but I'll share it with you._

Kuroo hears the heavy breathing coming from the stall slowing down, second by second. He hears unsure, slow shifting. He hears feet tapping on the floor. Then, he sees the doorknob finally turning, and Kenma peeks out the stall he was hidden in.

His nose is very red, is the first thing Kuroo notices. His nose is very red, alongside his cheeks and his eyes - puffy, bloodshot, unfocused. His hand is still gripping the doorknob, and his fingers look shakey, his legs unstable. Kuroo has seen this exact vision lots of times throughout their friendship, but his heart gets a few more cracks every time.

(Kenma, at 7 years old, overwhelmed by their elementary teacher's comments about his odd quietness. Kenma, at 11 years old, sobbing and trembling on Kuroo's bed because of his parents' arguments. Kenma, at 15 years old, trying not to burst into tears in the classroom because of someone's comment about him being too shy. Kenma, Kenma, Kenma.)

"Hello," Kuroo murmurs at last.

"Kuro." Kenma's voice sounds rough at the edges. He's been crying a lot, Kuroo thinks distractedly.

Kuroo doesn't ask if he's okay, because that's a useless question; he knows he's not okay. So he just stares quietly, and hopes his gaze is as grounding as he's trying for it to be.

"Am I bothering you here?" he asks instead. Kenma hesitates a little, biting his lip in a nervous gesture, then shakes his head. Kuroo sighs in relief, because now he knows he's done a good thing by coming here.

A moment or two pass in comfortable silence; Kuroo doesn't want to break the calm Kenma's created for himself, the calm he clearly struggled so hard to get, so he doesn't say anything nor does he move.

"Kuro?"

"Yeah?"

"Please, can I- can you-" Kuroo tries not to look surprised, and waits patiently for the other boy to finish his question. Kenma's looking down, nervous and flushed, pink tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips, and Kuroo wants to reach out, to touch, to smooth the frown out of his face, to caress his head, to whisper that _everything's fine, everything will be okay, please take your time-_

"Can you come here?" he asks at last.

Kuroo's feet are already moving when he breathes out a relieved "Of course."

He goes to stand closer, and Kenma is staring up at him with big golden eyes, but Kuroo finds out he doesn't know what to do with himself. His fingers tremble, unsure, nervous, because he wants- 

"Can I-"

"Please."

Kuroo's fingers find home in the boy's hair - way too long hair, badly dyed hair, but Kuroo likes it because he can card his fingers through it and hear Kenma's satisfied purrs - and Kenma grips Kuroo's shirt, burying his face into his chest and exhaling shakily. His breath feels damp and warm. Kuroo's right hand travels down his spine, caressing, comforting, as he buries his nose into the top of the boy's head and closes his eyes. "I'm here," he whispers. "I'm here."

Kenma sniffles into his shirt. His knees buckle, as he drags both of them onto the ground, sitting down and moving even closer to Kuroo, who tries to adjust to him with a startled yelp. 

The floor is cold, hard, and it should be uncomfortable. It is, but Kuroo can't think of anything but Kenma at the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the smell of him, the weight of his body, the feeling of his fingers clenching and releasing his shirt as if desperately trying to ground himself; beautiful, strong Kenma, who seems to think the opposite about himself.

_Can't you see you're much stronger than you seem to realize?_ Kuroo thinks, as he squeezes his eyes shut. _Can't you see you don't need to be perfect all the time? That you're already enough - for me, for everyone - as you are?_

What he says instead is: "It's okay. You're okay," because his heart aches and his eyes burn with unshed tears, and he can't bring himself to say anything more.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For- for this."

"Don't you dare apologize, Kenma, it's not your fault." And maybe Kuroo's voice came out much shakier than he wanted it to, but Kenma - his Kenma, his best friend, his _person_ , his... - is literally crying in his arms and apologizing for crying in the first place. Give him a break.

Fingers grip his shirt tighter. _It is though_ , Kuroo guesses it means.

So he says: "You're allowed to feel vulnerable, Kenma. You don't have to be this- this perfect, unmoving _thing_ all the time. Allow yourself to feel things, Kenma."

A hiccup escapes the boy's mouth. Kuroo squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself for it; but he wants him to understand. So, so badly. It's not fair, he thinks, for such an important person in his life to feel like this. How could he ever allow it?

"I just- I feel like a burden."

And Kuroo breaks. Right then, right there.

"Oh, baby," the pet name slips out despite himself, and his fingers hurry to grip Kenma's chin, and caress his cheeks, and his neck, feeling his pulse on his palm, and- "Baby, how could you ever be a burden?"

Kenma's looking up at him with big, wide eyes, and his gaze feels startled. Surprised. Wondering.

But Kuroo can't stop himself now, can't stop the flow of words, because he needs him to understand, he needs him to-

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. Hell, you're the best thing that has ever happened to this damn team. You're so smart, so- so beautiful, and-" Kuroo takes a shuddering breath. "I honestly don't what I'd do without you. You're so strong, so much stronger than I could ever be, and I really wish you'd see that yourself."

"'m not. S-strong, I mean." Kenma murmurs, but his eyes are regarding Kuroo with an intensity Kuroo's never seen before, and he feels drunk off of it.

"You are." Kuroo's face shifts even closer to Kenma's by instinct, and he asks himself, _how can I make him understand?_ "The fact that you're able to pull yourself up every time and manage through shows it."

Kenma blinks. Once, twice. His hands move from Kuroo's shirt to his shoulders, the back of his neck, and settle there. He looks startled. Confused. Fidgety, like he doesn't know what to do with himself. He looks- _wanting_.

"I couldn't do it without you, Kuro," he murmurs, after a few hesitant seconds. Kuroo's breath hitches, as he lets out a soft gasp. Kenma looks up with shy eyes.

He looks up, and he's beautiful; beautiful, when he stands proudly on the court, smart eyes calculating and threatening; beautiful, when his eyes glimmer with a silent smile, as he greets his team every day; beautiful, when he's at his most vulnerable, trying to fight off tears; beautiful, when he's like _this_ , curious but shy, eager but hesitant, waiting for something to happen, looking like he's in front of a very difficult but intriguing equation and he's trying to solve it.

He's beautiful. Striking, really. And Kuroo wants-

The taller boy cups Kenma's cheeks as delicately as possible - because he doesn't want to shatter the trance of the moment, he doesn't want to scare him away, wants to handle him like the most precious thing he has, because he _is_ \- and leans even closer. Kenma's eyes flutter shut.

"Can I...?"

Kenma nods.

Kuroo presses their lips together, and it's only a peck, but- but Kenma sighs softly against him, and the kiss feels wet with drying tears and chapped with bitten lips, and Kuroo feels it all at once. _I want to protect you_ , he wants to tell him. _I'm not much, but I want to protect you, and cherish you, and make you understand. Please let me._

He hopes he understands.

They part silently, as Kuroo's forehead drops on Kenma's shoulder.

"Kuro."

Kuroo hums.

"Thank you."

_No, thank you_ , Kuroo wants to retort, but he doesn't.

Instead, he says, "Out of all my scenarios, I never expected our first kiss to be on the floor of the gym's bathroom."

Kenma giggles, and Kuroo smiles. He squeezes Kenma's sides once, twice.

"You had scenarios?"

"Of course. My favourite one was located in Paris, on top of the Effeil Tower, with fireworks behind us, and-"

Kenma slaps the back of his neck. Kuroo laughs.

"You're so embarrassing."

"What, you wouldn't have liked it?"

Kenma stays silent, and Kuroo grins. "Just as I thought."

"Shut up."

"Mmh."

He noses the boy's neck, a grin planted on his face, and he feels content- just like that. Because Kenma's joking around with him, and that means he's comfortable enough to do so, and that their kiss didn't scare him off, and that he feels content like that too.

It's not much, but Kuroo hopes it's enough.

He hopes that, in this moment, Kenma can see even just a fragment of what Kuroo sees when he watches him. He hopes he lifted off Kenma's back even just a fragment of all his weights and concerns and fears. Hell, give him all of those. If that means having _this_ \- Kenma, warm and content in his arms, leaning on him, with his small body so relaxed the earlier stress almost feels foreign -, he'll take them. For now, that's all he needs.

"You know, we should return to the team," Kenma says.

Kuroo hums. None of them get up from the floor, though, and only cling tighter to each other, if possible.

For now, that's all they need.

─

(And really, it's not their fault if moments later Yaku opens the door to two cuddling boys on the floor, both half asleep and clinging to each other. Really, they didn't mean for it to be that way.

But Yaku only shakes his head in amusement, and shuts the door closed.)

**Author's Note:**

> so huh i wrote and published this in a day. somehow this scene kept replaying in my head, and i had to get it out of my system. hope you enjoyed me being a depressed little shit and self projecting over kenma
> 
> :)


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